


Not A Wimsey

by Geenee27



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geenee27/pseuds/Geenee27
Summary: The daughter is a very, very clever young woman. Which is only be expected when you live with another very, very clever woman. But who is the wiser of the two.





	Not A Wimsey

**Author's Note:**

> For the Collection MFMM Year of Quotes - Women Authors May 2018

_**“She resented the way in which he walked in and out of her mind as if it was his own flat.” Dorothy L. Sayers, Gaudy Night** _

Phryne Fisher contentedly lounged on her parlour chaise, cushions at her back, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. A well loved book was resting comfortably in her lap. Occasionally she would reach for a tall glass of iced lemonade that sat on a side table near her elbow or would lightly smile at a particularly amusing line in the story she was seemingly lost in. The book and the author were a favourite and it was like donning a pair of comfortable slippers as she sat peacefully and read. Times like this were to be cherished in the otherwise whirlwind that was her life.

However, she had not read this book for awhile, not since she had returned to Melbourne, and the two protagonists in the story, who bantered back and forth whilst standing over a corpse, were beginning to strike an uncomfortable cord for her. Shocking her even with the familiarity, especially as it was quite obvious the two detectives were developing fond feelings for the other, in spite of their stubbornness and a fierce streak of independence in both. Phryne squirmed a little in her seat. This would not do. Could she not even enjoy an afternoon of reading without thoughts of that ... that...

The quiet household was gently disturbed by the movement of someone on the second landing and Phryne looked up to watch her adopted daughter Jane descend the front hall stairs and wander into the room. It struck her again at how quickly the young girl was growing up. She had abandoned her long, usually braided hair for a shorter, more mature style that enabled her lovely light brown hair to softly fall to her shoulders in slight curls. Jane had also changed her school uniform for a calf length navy skirt and pretty light blue cardigan.

The teenager glanced over at Phryne, turned quietly to her left so as not to disturb the lady detective, and stood before one of several bookcases lining the wall. Her hand trailed lovingly across the leather spines, stopping now and then to pull one of the volumes from the shelf and thumb through the title pages and appendices

Phryne turned the top corner of the page she was reading and closed her book.

“In need of something new to read?” she inquired of her daughter.

Jane looked over her shoulder and sighed.

“Actually a break from memorizing the soliloquies of tortured Danish princes or the study of the list of mammal genera. My head feels like it is about to combust.”

“So something a little lighter then your text books,”. Phryne concluded.

“But not too childish,” Jane commented. “I think I've outgrown my girls' adventure books.”

Phryne tried to hide a small smirk, then thought for a moment before picking up the book that she had been reading.

“Have you heard of the author Dorothy L. Sayers ?” the raven haired lady ventured.

“I'm not sure. Is she new? Have you read her?”

“I've read her books so many times I've lost count. I discovered her when I was in my early twenties.”

“What are they about?”

“Well, she writes about a lot of things and is particularly well known as an advocate for women's education. She went to Oxford you know. Read modern languages and medieval literature. She finished with first-class honours.”

Jane's eyes lit up. Her present dream was to read Biological Sciences at Oxford and with the help of her adoptive mother, who had rescued her from the straitened circumstances of life on the street in South Melbourne, was working hard towards it.

Phryne held out the book she was holding and Jane took it from her. She opened the worn leather front cover and read the title.

“Gaudy Night. By Dorothy L. Sayers. A Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane Story.”

“An excellent novel about a carefree, hedonistic aristocrat who takes up mystery detection after the war and with the love of his life, who will not give him the time of day, tries to solve a series of murders.”

Jane eyebrows rose and she gave her mother an incredulous look, or perhaps it was one of irony, one Phryne tried studiously to ignore. It was a look all too familiar, having seen it a number of times on someone a might older then the young lady.

“I would have thought you had enough of that in your life already,' Jane teased.

Phryne rolled her eyes and retorted. “Don't be cheeky! Just give it a try. I think you'd really like it. It takes place at a women's college at Oxford and has been labelled the first 'feminist mystery novel'.”

Jane nodded, “ Sounds really good, I think I will.” She hugged the book to her chest and turned to retreat up the stairs when the telephone shrilled and being closest to the front hall she grabbed the receiver up.

“ Fisher residence! ... Oh, hello Inspector Robinson.”

She listened for a bit to the voice on the other end of the phone. “Yes, it went well, I got an A.” Jane was smiling broadly now and nodding excitedly. “Thanks so much for your help. No... no... I'm taking a break from the Danish Prince for a moment, Miss Phryne has given me a new book to read. Sounds quite thrilling. It's about a man and a woman who are detectives, thwarted love and a murder mystery.”

Jane eyed the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher and gave her a mischievous grin. The person on the other end of the telephone had suddenly become very quiet.

“Is there something you wanted Inspector?” Jane finally took pity on the man. The man in question managed to stumble over a few words.

“Oh, a suspicious death you say, I'll get Miss Phryne. Bye for now.”

“Phone for you, Lady Wimsey, it's a Detective Inspector Vane.” Jane laid the receiver on the table and skipped up the stairs, giggling as she went.

**Author's Note:**

> I chose this quote because I adore the novels of author Dorothy L. Sayers, a feminist and academic scholar who helped champion women's rights, especially their access to education, in the early part of the twentieth century. As a young teen, born and raised in the mostly patriarchal world of the 1950s and early 60s, her's and other women's writings opened up a whole new world, one where women learned they did not have to settle for less than.
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, I played fast and furious with the timelines as 'Gaudy Night" was not published until 1935 and my little story is around 1929 ish. So sue me or better still I would love a rant.
> 
> The important message of this story is women talking to other women : about the women who came before, present day women who do and teach, and the young women who will in future lead the revolution.
> 
> "Strong women, may we know them, may we be them, may we raise them."


End file.
